Sleepyhead
by jesuisamber
Summary: Amy's having trouble sleeping, but luckily, she's not the only one. Amy/Eleven. Oneshot.


**Title: Sleepyhead.  
Author: justice incarnate.  
Word Count: 3,094.  
Summary: Amy's having trouble sleeping, but luckily, she's not the only one. (Amy/Eleven. Oneshot.)  
Disclaimer: Don't remind me.**

* * *

I was having trouble sleeping.

"Having trouble," meant that I was one hundred percent completely wide awake, and it was driving me bonkers. My entire body felt run-down, exhausted, parched for sleep. But my mind was thrumming with energy, mocking the thought of slumber. _No, _my mind was saying in a sing-song tone,_ no sleep for you tonight! _It was as if I'd swallowed an entire handful of coffee beans - sleep was so beyond my reach.

I muttered a curse, rolling over to punch my pillow angrily. I wanted sleep, craved it, could taste it on the tip of my tongue. But I'd been laying in the silent darkness for what felt like forever and I was still awake, _and it was_ _killing me!_

I rolled over again, while at the same time, pushing my disheveled hair away from my face. I opened my eyes, waiting for them to adjust to the dark. Slowly, shapes began to blur into my vision. With a resigned sigh, I pushed myself out of the bed, and began to pad silently to the door (unfortunately, on the way, my hip bumped the sharp edge of the bedside table, and the pain was enough to chase away even a minuscule amount of drowsiness.)

I threw the door open and the TARDIS, being sly and tricky as usual, dumped me into the library. The first thing I noticed were the books - there were shelves upon shelves of them, all looking old and boring. They were covered in a thick layer of the dust, which made me draw the conclusion that the Doctor hadn't touched them in a long time. I wondered what the books even were about, but I didn't wonder very long...

...Because of the second thing I noticed: the pool. This wasn't actually what had surprised me, what made me gasp. You see, the pool was always turning up in the most random places (though it always seemed to end up right back in the library). No, what made me catch my breath was what was _in _the pool. Or rather who.

The Doctor's long, sinewy arms created waves in the water, his head breaking the surface for a split second before going under again. His hair was clinging to his head in thick tendrils as he navigated toward the edge I was near. He didn't notice me at all, standing a mere twenty feet away. He simply swam, and I noticed how graceful his swim was. He was like a fish, slithering through the water quickly and expertly.

I couldn't help but marvel at him, while my fingers absently combed my straggly, mused hair. He was quite a sight when he was swimming, beautiful and elegant. I didn't think it was possible for anyone to look beautiful or elegant when they were wearing black flower patterned bathing suit bottoms, but he pulled off easily, as if he wasn't even trying. Then I realized with a blush that, oh wait, he wasn't trying at all.

He reached the edge before quickly slithering away in the opposite direction, using his feet on the wall to thrust toward the other end of the pool. He propelled easily through the water, almost as if he was floating in air, pushing through it with absolutely no effort, whatsoever. Meanwhile, I was a danger in the pool. I kicked and I writhed around dangerously, not minding young children and/or other adults, all of whom stared at me like I was a menace to society.

Then again, in the pool, I was.

But the Doctor - he made it look almost easy. He swam and swam, back and forth (I'm not quite sure how long I stood there watching him) and back and forth, making small ripples through the water as he traced the length of the pool over and over. I never fancied the thought that he used the pool. I always kind of thought it was just _there_. Simply there for the sole purpose of making the TARDIS more complicated than need be (because it always showed up in the most inconvenient places, like once in my bedroom.) But here he was.

Eventually, he slowed his swimming, giving off little gentle kicks, and resurfaced, rubbing the water out of his eyes. He blinked slowly, still not noticing me, and cracked his neck, the sound echoing and strangely loud in my ears. A sudden feeling dawned on me, the feeling that I was invading something oddly personal. Like this was meant to be his moment, not mine to share.

I began to back away, wanting to make it out before he noticed me and got angry. He'd pretend like he wasn't, but there would be that shaking in his voice as he tried to keep it in check, as he asked me questions. _Why was I here? How long was I here? Why was I still awake? Shouldn't I be asleep by now?_

Unfortunately, my back hit a shelf, and I cried out, "Ow!", before I could stop myself. The Doctor jumped, caught off guard, and his eyes swung curiously toward me. I bit down roughly on my lower lip, feeling his mounting anger heat up the room, sending a thick layer of awkward into the air. He opened his mouth, though his expression bore no semblance of anger, and I cringed, mentally answering his first question.

_What was I doing here? _Well, that was easy. The TARDIS was being it's oh-so-mental self and dropped me off here as soon as I'd left my room. Of course, that was a viable excuse. Heck, it was the truth. The only lie I'd be telling would be, no, I wasn't there for very long. I only just got there, right as he was resurfacing.

"You're up late," was all he said, before swimming lightly toward the edge I was closest to. He stared up at me, expectantly, like he was waiting for me to go over to him. Naturally, I was a little confused.

So...he wasn't angry? That wasn't his anger I'd felt in the room. It was all in my head; it was what I'd expected he'd be feeling. I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. He just continued to stare at me. Slowly, though, I was able to process what was going on, and I walked stiffly toward the edge, before sitting pretzel-style directly in front of him.

"Why are you up so late, Pond? Bedbugs wouldn't leave you alone, eh?" he asked with a smile that sent my heart racing. I felt a little ridiculous, sitting by the edge of the pool in my nightie, but he noticed nothing strange about it as he grinned teasingly at me.

"Something like that," I muttered, and looked away. "Just couldn't sleep." Then I looked back at him. "What about you?"

"Same reasons, Amy. Sometimes I suffer from insomnia, it's real irritating," he shook his head emphatically, making the situation much more dramatic than it was ten seconds ago. In that rapid shake of his head, he said without actually saying that this situation was absolutely ridiculous. That he should be able to sleep whenever he fancies and that insomnia should just bugger off! "So I usually come here for a quick swim. Water is a distraction. It can clear the mind. You should try it!"

I stared at him skeptically. "I don't think so," I said slowly.

He looked perplexed. "That's just it, though! You're thinking too much. The water," he told me, "can clear your mind."

"I'm good," I said quickly.

"You sure are something, Amelia Pond," he murmured with a chuckle.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded, dipping my hand into the water to splash him. He chuckled again, almost darkly, as if he knew something I didn't. I knew that he probably knew something I didn't. Ad he knew that I knew this. Which made him laugh some more. My splash was absolutely harmless, not affecting him in the least bit. I splashed him again, harder this time and with more water. He closed his eyes as the water hit his face, then opened them to peer at me with that childish glint of his.

"Oh, nothing," he said lightly. "So, you couldn't sleep and decided to wander around, eh?"

I shrugged. "Didn't do much wandering. The TARDIS just kind of...dumped me here."

A look broke over his face, the kind of look he gets when he's thinking hard about something. Usually, the look only comes out to play when he's thinking of something life-changing, world-saving, or epic. I wondered what he could possibly be pondering just by my simple statement. He began muttering under his breath, "Just dumped you here. I wonder why..." Then he snapped, his face brightening. "Maybe the TARDIS _wanted _you here. Maybe it thought as I do...that you need a swim."

I eyed him peculiarly. "Why are you so adamant about me swimming?" I blushed as I thought of the possibilities of why exactly he wanted me to swim, then I banished those thoughts quickly. This was the Doctor, for crying out loud! There was no way he could think of me like that, especially because he'd basically known me since I was a wee little girl. It just wasn't possible.

He shrugged nonchalantly, disappearing under the water for a brief moment before coming back up with a mouthful of it. He squirted it at me from between his lips, and I squealed, because it was cold! I scarcely noticed it when I was splashing him, but now I did, as it hit my nightie and soaked right through, onto the skin of my stomach. It gave me goosebumps.

"Doctor!" I cried, and he grinned cheekily.

"I don't know," he said, answering my earlier question. "Guess I'm just trying to help. It helps me often."

"You're the Doctor, though," I told him, all traces of my anger forgotten. Though I could still feel the water (hmph). "You're much different than I."

"Am I?" He mused, and it got very silent for a few long seconds.

Gingerly, I began to slide my naked foot across the library floor and into the water. My toes skimmed it, and I shivered. The water was absolutely freezing. How would swimming in this help me sleep? I think the cold would do nothing but wake me even more. The Doctor was mad, absolutely, certifiably insane.

"The water is cold," I blurted pathetically.

He smirked. "Doesn't the cold just make you so drowsy?"

I raised my eyebrows at him. "...No. Not at all. In fact, it wakes me up even more."

"What?" he cried. "Well, that's rubbish. Can't have that, now can we? Right then..." he cleared his throat, and then bobbed under the water to swim gracefully to the bottom of the pool. I stared at his figure, rippling from the water, and wondered what he could quite possibly be doing.

My question was soon answered. As he began swimming up, the water instantly changed. A few seconds ago, my toes were still numb, trying to adjust to cold - then suddenly, the water wasn't cold anymore. No, not at all. In fact it was warm, very warm, like the water of a hot tub. I gasped as the warmth spread through my body, and the Doctor broke the surface and smiled at me. "Well?" he asked.

I stared at him disbelievingly. "How did you-?"

"It wasn't that hard. Don't underestimate me, Pond."

I stuck my whole foot into the water, relishing in the warmth. My skin tingled slightly.

"Tired yet?" the Doctor asked eagerly.

"It's kind of hard to be tired when you're talking," I told him. "Are you tired?"

"Nah. In fact, I don't think I've ever had more energy than I do right now."

"Hmm."

"Are you even listening?"

"Nope."

The water was blissful, and I yawned without noticing it. I dipped my foot farther in, the water surrounding my calf. I pushed my other leg toward the water, and let it dangle in there, using my arms to support my torso as I arched upward and threw my head back, my eyes fluttering shut. I yawned again.

"Seems like you're tired!" the Doctor said in a sing-song tone, his voice muffled through my cloudy fog. I craned my neck down to peer at him through heavy-lidded eyes. He was smiling in this kind of adorable way, and I couldn't help but smile back. He was inching toward me slowly, little ripples rolling off his body as the water hit him. I didn't notice why he was coming closer, for the warm water was working miracles on my very-awake mind. My very-awake mind was now very-drowsy. I wondered if I'd be able to stumble back to my room, or if I could just sleep peacefully here.

The Doctor's hand wrapped around my knee folded on the edge of the pool, and I began to process what was going on. He was really close to me now. Too close for comfort. Or close enough for comfort. I couldn't tell, and didn't have time to think it through. His breath brushed my face, and I could feel a blush slowly working it's way up my neck. Suddenly, the hand wrapped around my knee tightened, pulled me closer-

And I was in the water, gasping with surprise, little bubbles escaping my lips. The Doctor swam a little way off, giving me about three feet to thrash in the water, up toward the surface. I coughed as I emerged into the air, blinking and shaking my head. I squealed seven times at least, saying the Doctor's name angrily.

"Doctor!" I yelled, my voice raspy from the strain. I could hear his side-splitting laughter, and I spun slowly in the water to face him. His face was alight with his mirth, as he gave another bout of laughter, holding his stomach. I could feel my cheeks heat up angrily, and with an animalistic yowl, I shot forward in the water to grab his shoulders and push him under.

The Doctor, however was smarter than I was, and he bunched his hands into my nightie to drag me down with him. We wrestled around in the water, me trying to break free of his grip and him gripping harder. I kicked at him, but under water, my kicks were powerless. He simply smiled at me, and clung to my nightie even tighter.

I rammed forward toward him, my hands lightly hitting his chest. Then suddenly, I looked up at him, and he looked up at me. And something weird happened. A strange jolt passed between us. My hands stayed where they were, on his chest, and he pulled me even closer, so now his body was pressed into mine, and without thinking, he kissed me.

It was a sweet, stolen kiss, filled with butterflies and nervousness. It felt like seventh grade all over again, with the first, hesitant, unsure kiss. The kind where both of you are testing the waters, dipping your feet lightly, your feelings scattered and your senses increased tenfold. A drunken, dizzy kiss. A beautiful kiss.

I came to my senses, and kissed him back slowly. His hesitance faded away, and he became more bold, deepening it and twining his hands around my neck. We floated to the surface of the water, and broke apart, hungering for air and wondering what exactly just happened in that long, drawn-out minute underwater.

He raised his eyes toward mine precariously as I tried to catch my breath. I blinked, and the flash of drowsiness that seeped into my body reminded me of why I was here in the first place. I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them again. The Doctor was still staring at me, his eyes calculating as they bore into mine.

I shook my head, kicking backwards in the water toward the edge. "I'm awfully tired," I yawned, batting my eyes and trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "I think I'm gonna...turn in."

He said, "Yeah, I'm actually pretty fatigued too." His voice was odd, like he was trying too hard to sound normal.

"You were right," I said, pulling myself out of the pool. I leaned over it a little way, gathered my hair in my hand and squeezed the water out of it. Then I grabbed bunches of my nightie and tried to drain it as much as possible. The Doctor just stood stock-still in the pool, his eyes never wavering from mine.

"Aren't I always?" he joked tightly.

"Water does sometimes help," I said with a roll of my eyes. _"Sometimes," _I emphasized. I was trying my hardest to make things normal again between us, the regular Doctor and the regular me. But the look in his eyes said it all - we could pretend like they were, but things would never be normal again. For better or for worse, things were now different between us. That was it. No going back.

"All the time," he laughed, but it was rigid. "It helps all the time."

I pursed my lips, and he eyed them, before correcting himself and swooping his eyes back up to look into mine. I blushed.

"Well...goodnight, Doctor." I began to pad toward the door, dripping and sodding wet, but with my back turned to him, I couldn't help but smile a little.

"Goodnight, Amy," he called after me.

As soon as my head hit my pillow, I was out. And I slept very peacefully.


End file.
